A Shoulder To Cry On
by HR always live on
Summary: Ruth has been in exile for three years of painful separation from Harry. When events happen and she has to return to the UK, can they find a way to make it work and clear her name? Set after series 5 AU. Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Another multi chapter fic from me. Set during Ruth's exile and is a little AU in places. Enjoy.**

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Ruth closed her eyes as the aeroplane's engine came to life and the aircraft began moving slowly on the runway for take off. It was now too late and she had no choice any longer. She was going back to England. Right or wrong, now that the plane was moving she could stop second guessing her decision. She was going home. The thought buoyed her up, but also terrified her. She was supposed to be dead after all, and if authorities discovered she wasn't, there was a very real chance she'd end up in prison. Even though she was avoiding London, it was still dangerous. Maybe she shouldn't be going back to the UK, but she reminded herself that it was too late.

Ever since she'd left London, Ruth had felt a pull towards the city. Towards _him_. Not a day went past when she didn't think of him. Was he even alive now? If Harry had died when she was out of the country… She swallowed uncomfortably, because that was an ending to their story that she couldn't bear to contemplate. Because Ruth leaving on an early morning boat to France couldn't be the end for them, could it? In the past three years, she'd never let him go. She couldn't accept that she'd never see him again. Her leaving the country after one date and a couple of kisses could not be the end of their relationship. While they might not have had a long personal relationship, Ruth knew perfectly well that she loved him, and that love was stronger than anything else she'd ever felt for another man. It didn't matter how long the relationship had been at the time, she loved him. And it was only in the few short weeks before her abrupt departure that she'd realised her feelings were not one sided.

No, she couldn't even begin to think about the possibility of his death. It couldn't happen before she'd seen him at least one more time, illogical as she knew that thinking was. She'd had enough of death without attempting to face Harry's as well.

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Harry poured himself a large whisky as he sat down behind his desk. A hard day. But lately, they'd all been hard days. He missed her. It had been three years since he'd last seen her. Three incredibly hard years of absence. He missed her personally so much, but also professionally as they'd not been able to find a long term or competent replacement. So Ruth's desk had an almost constant change of staff.

There had been one woman who was more than adequate but… she'd had more than a passing resemblance to Ruth and every time she turned and her dark hair caught the light, Harry's heart would leap even as his brain told him that Ruth was far away. He'd had her sent to section A, and called in a favour so that she'd been paid much more than her current position. After all, it hadn't been Sophie's fault that she looked like Ruth.

Ruth might be dead by now, he thought as he took a healthy gulp of whisky. She might have been dead for years and he'd never know. He couldn't find out without causing dangerous waves and people paying attention to Ruth's location that he'd rather leave her alone. But that meant he had no idea where she was. It was a dangerous world, and he knew that better than most. Had she even been able to set up a new life when she'd left London? Had she made it?

He sighed, feeling very tired and old. It was the not knowing which hurt him the most. Had she met someone else? Married? Had children? The thought sent ice flooding through him, but he wanted her to be happy at the same time. It was a very strange feeling, because he felt angry at the thought of her being with another man, but it was very probable that he'd never see her again, so why shouldn't she try to move on? He himself probably should have moved on for a while now. He'd tried to a couple of times. He'd used aliases and gone to bars for some human interaction. Maybe he hoped for comfort too with the women he found. But his heart hadn't been in it, and nothing more than a deep feeling of shame had ever come of those few nights, and he'd given up on hoping for someone else to distract him from the pain of Ruth's absence.

Harry was beginning to worry that he was losing the image of her. After so long, he was struggling to remember the exact shape of her cheekbones, the expression in her eyes when she looked at him was starting to lose it's clarity. Little pieces of her were being lost to his memory and he wondered if one day he'd have nothing left of her but his emotions and the few photographs he had.

He didn't particularly like the photos he had of her. They didn't capture her spirit, and whenever she was aware of a camera her expression became fixed. Which meant all of the images he had of her were a little flat. They didn't really match up with the Ruth he loved, or the woman in his memory.

There was a light knock on his door, bringing him away from his maudlin thoughts and Malcolm came in, a thin file in his hands. He looked worried and was chewing his bottom lip nervously.

"Sit down," Harry said kindly. "Do you want a drink?"

"No, thank you," Malcolm said, hovering by the chair, but staying standing.

"Oh God, what is it?" Harry asked. He'd never seen his friend looking this anxious, and with what they'd been through over the years, that was worrying.

"I… er…" Malcolm said, tailing off. He took a deep breath before starting again. "I have a list of passports that I'm following. I'm sent an alert when one of them goes through passport control."

"I know," Harry said. "Who's travelling here that shouldn't be?" he asked, cutting to the point he assumed Malcolm was getting to.

"She's travelling under an assumed passport, but I'm the only one who knows the name on the false passport. Well, false passport is probably the wrong term, it's a real passport, just with a false identity attached. It was arranged…."

"Malcolm, who is it?" he asked.

"Ruth. Ruth's coming back to England."


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for all the wonderful reviews. They've persuaded me to write the second chapter quickly. Enjoy!**

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Harry managed to catch the last train from Waterloo to Exeter that night. Ruth was going under the legend Rose Thompson and her flight had been between Barcelona and Exeter. He didn't know any more than that, but it was enough. With Malcolm's help, officially he was on his way to Iraq to visit his daughter. Unplanned, but it was far enough away from the UK that were anyone to check up on him, he'd have enough warning to get back to London. Malcolm had even arranged for someone who looked like him to be travelling under one of Harry's known aliases, in case anyone became curious about Harry's abrupt absence. Spies rarely travelled under their own identity if they could help it. Something about the thrill that they just couldn't turn away from, even in their personal life.

He didn't think anyone would check up on him, but it never hurt to be careful. If he thought he'd be tracked down, he wouldn't risk looking for Ruth. Her life and her freedom were more important than his burning desire to see her again, strong as it was.

He was drawn from his thoughts as the train slowed down at Yeovil Junction. Just over an hour away from Exeter then. Ruth would be well away from the airport by now, and he had no idea where to start looking for her. She might not even stay in Exeter, but just wanted an airport away from the dangers of London. But she'd grown up here, and he desperately hoped she'd stay put for a time. Enough time for him to find her anyway.

Neither Harry nor Malcolm wanted to use the grid computers to track her down, just in case, but it did leave them with a few options to look for her. Malcolm was using his home computer to try and find out if Ruth had checked into a hotel or a B and B. Harry had faith in his oldest friend. Malcolm wouldn't fail, because he'd take it as a personal affront if he was unable to use technology to track one person down.

Harry's new pay as you go mobile buzzed with a text message. It came through as complete nonsense and he frowned as he tried to decipher it using Malcolm's system which he'd been explained before Harry had left London. It took him a good ten minutes before he realised that they were GPS coordinates. Another five minutes and he'd found out that they were the coordinates for a run down B and B on the edge of the city. Harry assumed that she'd have paid in cash and that the B and B didn't ask for names. He needed to see her, but he wasn't completely stupid either. Going around in the dead of night was asking for trouble. So he'd have to wait until the morning after another sleepless night.

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Ruth woke up, staring at the ceiling. This was a stupid and pointless idea. Why had she felt the need to fly into the country? It wasn't going to change anything at all, and she felt the prick of tears beginning yet again. She got out of bed to stop herself from crying and wallowing in her misery and went to the tiny bathroom. She flinched away from her reflection in the mirror, fingering her short dyed blonde hair with distaste. She'd suffered a scare in Berlin where she was positive a British diplomat had recognised her, and since then she'd changed her appearance. It had been a year and she still couldn't get used to the change whenever she caught her reflection in a mirror. She took a quick shower and got dressed without glancing at the mirror again.

Two hours later Ruth walked through the cemetery and it didn't take her long to find the grave she was here to visit. The earth was freshly turned and it had an incredibly new gravestone there. Only a couple of days old. With great care she placed the bouquet of violets on the grave, noticing that the earlier flowers from the funeral were dying. "Hi mum." She sighed, feeling the fresh Spring breeze on her face, a gentle caress. "I know I promised I'd come back to see you again. I never thought it would be like this. You should have told me you had heart problems. I wanted to see you again. I'd have been here sooner." She took a deep breath and felt her composure begin to break.

Once Ruth had heard the news about her mothers death, she hadn't really been able to comprehend it. She'd wanted to come back to England, to say goodbye properly, but knew from a safety standpoint that going to the funeral was risky. So she'd spent her time planning her brief trip to Exeter and home, and she'd managed to redirect her grief into something productive. But now, standing by her mothers grave, it hit her with a realism she'd been avoiding up until this moment. Her mother was dead. Gone. Forever. Tears were falling down her face before she even realised and she was gasping for breath.

Over the past three years she'd had sporadic contact with her mother, unable to let Elizabeth believe that her only child had died, when the truth was she was alive and well, if not exactly happy. So there'd been the occasional email from encrypted addresses using internet cafés and never the same email address twice. She hadn't seen her mother in years, but it was comforting to know that she was always there. A world where her mother didn't exist in was incredibly hard to contemplate.

"Rose?" She tensed and looked up in fear at her "name" as she wiped her face. She recognised him a split second later and she relaxed slightly. **_Harry_**. He stood a few yards away from her, eyes connected with hers, filled with sadness and joy. Neither of them moved as the seconds ticked away, and eventually Harry stepped closer to her. After so long, months of thinking about him, he was finally in front of her, immediate and real. He looked just as she remembered him and she didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"I'm so sorry about your mother. I didn't know." His voice sounded emotional and open, so unlike the mask he usually wore that she broke down. She was sobbing within moments and without quite knowing how it happened, she found herself leaning against his chest, her tears falling onto his shirt and his arms gently holding her around her waist.

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**More soon!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Earlier that day.**

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After a night of tossing and turning, Harry gave up on the pretence of sleep at around six in the morning. He turned on his laptop and tried to work out what Ruth was doing here. As it turned out, it didn't take long as Malcolm had clearly been working tirelessly overnight. A few clicks of the mouse and he found what he'd been looking for. Elizabeth Evershed's obituary. He felt it all click into place and felt a small wave of grief. Ruth must be so upset. Devastated. Her only parent had died, which made a lot of sense as to why Ruth wanted to come back to the country.

Harry quickly had a look at cemeteries in Exeter and found three. The last burial in one of those had been in 1896, which left two others. He had a fifty fifty shot. All of a sudden his excitement over knowing why Ruth was in the country was overshadowed by the fact that he might never find her. She might have already visited the grave. If she were only in the country to say goodbye to her mother, then clearly she wasn't intending to stay in the UK long. What if he'd already missed his chance? He reminded himself that Malcolm would warn him when her passport went through control again, so he started to breathe again. At least she was in the country, and his momentary panic subsided. He had nothing to do now but look for her.

* * *

He'd been looking for her for a while when he finally saw her. At first he wasn't even convinced it was her, and his eyes slid past her before going back, realising that there was something very familiar about her, even with her blonde head bowed over the fresh grave. Maybe it was the way she stood, or something else which reminded him of Ruth. But he wasn't sure until he called out softly to her. Her alias, just in case it really wasn't her. "Rose." Just a slight hint of a question as she looked up at him, and all at once there was no doubt at all. She looked wary at being recognised and extremely upset, but he'd recognise those blue eyes anywhere. She relaxed slightly as she recognised him. She looked much thinner than she had, and a little haunted.

He felt guilty, because it was at least partly his fault. She'd left to protect him, and been exiled from her country and her home for three years. That haunted look on her face was his fault.

He moved, closing the gap between them a little. She seemed to wobbly slightly on her feet and he wondered if she was going to faint, which took him a few steps closer still. He wanted to smile and hug her, but he was also highly aware of the fact that for her, this reunion between them was not an occasion of joy. "I'm so sorry about your mother. I didn't know."

She nodded slightly, her eyes flicking to the grave again, and suddenly the tears were freely streaming down her face and she was sobbing, gasping for breath. He reached out a hand for her, not sure whether she'd welcome his touch or not after so long an absence, especially when their relationship had been so complicated. But as soon as he touched her hand, it was as if she gave way and completely crumbled. She leant against his chest as the grief overwhelmed her, crying into his shirt. After a moment of surprise, he wrapped his arms gently around her waist, palm rubbing soothing circles on her back.

He wondered how long she'd been trying to hold everything together, and when was the last time she'd had someone comfort her. He'd never been able to hold her like this before, and even though he was simply holding her while she cried, it felt right. Why had he never managed to find a time to hold her like this before? The minutes passed and she pulled away from him, drying her eyes.

"Sorry," she said, clearly a little embarrassed of crying all over him.

"Don't apologise," he said quietly. "How…" He couldn't ask how she was, as it seemed rather obvious.

"I've been doing okay," she said quietly, answering the question anyway as she wiped her eyes. "How about you?" she asked, her voice soft. The lovely tone of her voice which he'd completely failed to remember.

"I'm okay," he said. "Considering everything. It's… good to see you. Even under the horrible circumstances."

"It is," she agreed, her eyes flicking to her mothers grave for a moment. "I wanted to come to London to see you," she said. "I argued with myself whether I should or not, but in the end I decided I couldn't."

"Why not?" he asked gently.

"Because it's dangerous for me to be in the capital. And in a few days I have to leave. I thought it might be worse. To see you then go again."

"You're leaving?" he asked, feeling his heart plummet faster than he imagined possible.

"I can't stay Harry," she said sadly. The sadness was mirrored on his own face, he knew. "By the way, how did you find me?" she asked, her voice still thick with emotion.

"Malcolm," he said. "You're safe, don't worry." She nodded, and he saw the relief there. So she was worried people were following her.

"It was foolish to come here," she said, looking at the grave yet again. "But I couldn't stay away."

"Ruth, do you want to get a cup of tea somewhere? Where we can talk properly." She didn't tear her eyes away from her mothers grave. "When you're ready," he added, not wanting to rush her.

"Yes," she said. "I think that would be good." She didn't show any indication of wanting to stay any longer and led the way out of the cemetery, Harry half a step behind her.

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**Thank you for all the wonderful reviews. More soon. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

Within half an hour they were sitting in the corner of a small café sipping tea with two slices of apple cake.

"Do you know how long its been since I had proper British tea?" she said quietly.  
He smiled at her. "You look well," he said.

"No Harry, I look like hell," she said, guessing her eyes were red and bloodshot from crying, and touching her blonde hair self consciously. "I know you're not mentioning it, but I hate it."

"It's just different," he replied gently. It was, jarringly different but he could guess the reason she'd changed her hair was a more practical one for a person in hiding, so he changed the subject. "Where are you living now?" he asked quietly.

She paused for a moment before speaking, and he knew perfectly well she was weighing up the options. Whether it was safe to tell him or not "Japan." He raised his eyebrows in surprise. That would have been one of the last places he'd have guessed, and clearly she could still read him like a book. "I know it's not Europe. Where you thought I'd be."

"Well, it's a big continent," he said. "Plenty of places to hide away. But yes, I did think you'd be a little… closer to home." It was in fact slightly disheartening to realise that she'd been half the world away for so long. He'd always assumed she'd ended up somewhere in Europe. Maybe one of the Greek islands, but Japan? It was so far away. "What do you do there?"

She smiled at her hands, wrapped around her mug of tea. "I teach," she said. "English as a second language."

"Really?"

"Mm," she said. "It's good," she said. "I do enjoy it. It's wonderfully rewarding at times."

"Good," he said.

"What about you?" she said. "How are… things on the grid?"

"Going okay," he said. "You know how it is, one disaster after another, always trying to prevent them."

"I do know how it is," she agreed. "Have we… lost anyone?"

Harry sighed heavily, which she took for a yes. "I don't know if I should… after your mother…"

"I'd rather know," she said quietly, eyes earnest. "I don't know when I'm next going to be in the country. I need you to tell me."

"All right," he said, feeling a bit hollow at the mention of her leaving less than an hour after he'd laid eyes on her. She couldn't just vanish into the ether again. It was bitterly unfair. "Zaf."

"Oh no," she said sadly. "How?" Harry looked at her darkly and she shook her head. "Okay, I don't want to know do I?"

"No. You don't."

"Okay. Anyone else?"

"No," he said. "Though Adam had a really close call with a car bomb almost a year ago. He's fine."

"Good," she said. She bit her lip, as the talk about death had brought her mind back to her mother. Harry seemed to sense that and he reached across the table to take her hand.

"I'm truly sorry about your mother," he said, squeezing gently. "How?"

"Heart attack," Ruth said. "From the sounds of it she'd been having heart problems for a while now. She never told me." She closed her eyes and shook her head in sadness.

"When are you flying back?" he asked.

"Tomorrow night," she said. "I couldn't risk being here for long. I fly to Barcelona, then Dubai, then Osaka. Under three different passports in case I'm being followed."

"I'm sorry you have to live like that," he said, feeling another surge of guilt.

"So am I," she said. "But it's not your fault. If I had my time over, I'd have done it again Harry." She squeezed his hand once more before letting go and eating a forkful of cake.

"Can I ask something?" he said. "It's horrible timing, but I don't know when I'll see you again." Or _if _he saw her again, his mind told him. She nodded, while she ate. "Is there anyone… waiting for you in Japan? Have you…?"

"Am I in a relationship?" she said frankly and he nodded. "No. I've a couple of friends, but nothing like that. What about you?"

"No. There's no one." He spoke firmly and she looked into his hazel eyes, wondering why. His history with women was prolific. No one in three years? She could hardly believe that. Or did he mean there was no one of any importance, or no one at the moment? She gave herself a mental shake, because those were questions she couldn't reasonably ask, and she wasn't sure she wanted the answers anyway.

"Ruth…" he tailed off when he saw her smiling. "What?"

"My name," she said quietly. "It's been three years since anyone's called me by my name. So long to be living as someone else."

"I know," he said, voice laced with meaning, and she realised he'd lived a proportion of his life under a legend too. Making everyone believe he was someone else, and she felt a little childish for complaining. It wasn't as if he didn't understand. The silence between them felt charged, but with what, she didn't know. Eventually Harry broke it, once their tea was cold. "Ruth, you said your mother never mentioned her health problems…" he said. "You… you were in contact with her?"

"Yes." Ruth saw the pain on his face. That she'd been able to contact someone in the UK and had chosen not to send him a message that she was at least alive. "Harry, it wasn't that I didn't want to…"

"No, of course not," he said and she saw the shutters come down, masking his emotion from her and the pain she was putting him through. It hadn't been until now that she truly appreciated how open his face had been. Now it had vanished and he was being a spook once again, rather than the man she knew.

"I couldn't contact you," she said. "It was such a terrible risk Harry, and I so wanted to. But it would never have been enough. I only sent a message to my mother three or four times a year. To let her know I was okay. The things I wanted to say to you, Harry, were so much more than I could ever safely put in an email."

"I could have known you were alive," he said, voice quiet and eyes blazing with anger. "That would have been such a precious gift, to know that you were still breathing."

"I didn't know you were alive either," she said, tears filling her eyes again. How much could one person cry? "I know how it feels. The not knowing. It wasn't just you. I had no idea if you'd died either."

"You had a choice though," he said quietly, pressing his point. "I couldn't have contacted you, no matter how badly I wanted to. I didn't know which continent you were even in!"

"Harry, this situation is not my fault."

"I need some air." He pushed his chair back and abruptly left the tea shop. Ruth sighed heavily but she let him go to calm down. She knew he wouldn't go far.

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**More soon, and a massive thank you to all who left reviews. **


	5. Chapter 5

Ten minutes later Harry hadn't returned and Ruth looked up as the rain began thundering against the tea shop's window, surprisingly heavily. She put down some money on the table and then left, going in search of Harry, ignoring the rain. She'd been right, he wasn't far away, she saw his figure at the end of the street. He too was ignoring the change in the weather. She rushed towards him and reached out a hand to his arm, he felt wonderfully real under her touch. "Don't run from me Harry."

"I'd have done anything to hear from you," he said, and looking into his eyes she could see he was genuinely upset. "Anything."

"You're not thinking it through," she said. "This doesn't mean that my feelings…" she tailed off, because talking about emotions and feelings between the two of them was never easy. "That you're less important to me than I am to you."

"No?"

"No," she said firmly.

"Then why?"

"Harry, it's not that I don't care. The problem is I care about you too much. To limit myself to one email to you every four months, to not say anything that I wanted to say, to be counting down the days until I could safely contact you again. Wondering if today would be the day I'd read your words… it would have been a slow torture. Nothing I wanted to say could be put in an email without any hacker realising exactly who you were talking too." She sighed before speaking again. "It would have been a slippery slope. "Are you alive?" would soon slip to "how are you?" To "where are you?" "What are you doing?" "I miss you." And before you'd know it, Mace's men would be following me to extradite me back to a UK prison. If they didn't kill me first."

"Japan has no extradition treaty with the UK," Harry said. Then it dawned on him. "Which is the reason you're living there, isn't it?"

She nodded. "I'm frightened Harry. Mace has friends who would be more than happy to get their hands on me, especially if it meant a chance at exonerating him. I doubt they'd have used "legal" means if they were happy condoning torture."

"It might not have happened that way," he said softly, seeing her point of view as much as he hated it. He knew she was right.

"Of course it would have," she said, realising that he was seeing the logic. "I wanted to talk to you so badly that I had no willpower left. I had no restraint. And one email would have led to another, and another, and we'd be communicating daily before either of us would have known how it happened. Emailing an old insignificant woman in Devon three times a year is _much_ safer than messaging the head of counter terrorism for MI5 in London. You don't know who's spying on you, reading those messages. It was too dangerous Harry. It _is_ too dangerous. And you're a good enough spy to know it."

Ruth spoke so logically and eloquently that he knew she'd given this a great deal of thought, and his anger faded and his bruised pride began to fade. "It's so unfair."

"That one I'm not going to argue with," she replied, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. "It doesn't mean I thought of you any less, Harry, or that my emotions were... different from yours."

"I know," he said. "I've missed you terribly."

"Are all the replacement analysts rubbish?"

"Well, they are," he said. "But that's not why I miss you." She smiled, a happy smile for the first time since he'd laid eyes on her. It made a smile form on his own lips and he placed a hand on the small of her back, leaning in close before he'd even made the conscious decision to kiss her. He stopped, less than an inch from her lips. "Can I kiss you?" he asked, voice hoarse with emotion, and the importance of this moment. Her blue eyes were sparkling with pleasure and joy, the Ruth of old times. She smiled and closed the small gap between them. He closed his eyes as he felt her soft full lips beneath his, so warm and wonderful. It had been far too long since he'd kissed her, and having her pressed against him felt so right. The exquisite joy of having her in his arms once more couldn't be described.

The kiss ended all too soon and they parted but he kept his hands on her back gently as he couldn't bear it were they to part completely. He leaned in for another kiss and saw her lips twitch in a smile just before they touched. He ran his tongue over her bottom lip and she opened her mouth to him with a muffled moan, her hands sliding into his hair, wet with rain and pulling him close. That was all the encouragement he needed and the kiss turned into an incredibly passionate embrace very quickly.

When they parted Ruth was breathing heavily, her body pressed against his. "That should have been our first kiss," she said quietly. He smiled at her, eyes twinkling as the rain poured down. Neither of them had paid the slightest attention to the fact it was raining. They didn't care and they were both drenched to the skin. Ruth pressed another brief kiss to his lips and wrapped her arms around him, feeling so safe and secure in his arms.

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**Thank you for the reviews so far. More when it's written!**


	6. Chapter 6

After a few hours they found themselves walking through Belmont park. It was mostly empty as the brief rain shower had driven everyone inside. But now it had stopped, the park was beautiful with raindrops clinging to the flower petals and the blades of grass. Once they'd both shed their coats, they were relatively dry and they were enjoying each others company too much to go inside. They had the place to themselves too, which was an extra benefit. After an hour or two of reticence, Ruth had broken down. She'd begun to discuss places she'd visited, in general terms with few specific details of her life. She'd been unable to resist sharing with Harry, the person she'd most wanted to talk to for so long.

"Rome?" he asked, having a certain fondness for the city himself.

"For a few days," she said. "Actually on holiday and not too long ago."

"And?"

"A beautiful city whose hospitality could be improved upon," she said politely and Harry smiled at her. "St Peter's basilica was stunning. The highlight was the Castel Sant Angelo in the Vatican though. Oh, it was so beautiful, and on the day I visited it was pouring with rain. We had it to ourselves."

"We?" Harry questioned, aware of what she'd said about their being no one in her life.

"Alex," she said with a smile. "She's a recent graduate who I met teaching in Japan. More adventurous than I ever was at her age. She found a good deal online and persuaded me to go to Rome with her." Ruth smiled as she saw Harry relax at the word "she." She stopped him from walking and turned to face him. "I meant it when I said there was no one else."

"I know," he replied with a smile. "I just… find it hard to believe. You're such a beautiful woman." She blushed at that, looking down at the ground. "Don't do that," he murmured, tilting her chin up to make her look at him. "Don't look away when you're complemented." She looked into his hazel eyes and felt herself completely melting. No one else in the world looked at her like that. No one thought she was special. To everyone else she was simply another face in a crowd and no one cared about her. This man in front of her truly cared, and the three years she'd been in exile just didn't matter.

He moved his hand from her chin until he was stroking her cheek gently, his hazel eyes still looking at her warmly. "Oh God," she said under her breath, her face crumpling as a wave of tears overcame her. "How did I stay away for so long?" She cried again and within seconds found herself against his chest, his wonderfully familiar scent all around her. In a distant part of her mind, she knew this is why she'd chosen to avoid London and seeing him. Because leaving him for a second time was going to be so difficult.

"It's all right," he murmured. "It's going to be okay." She wished she could believe him.

* * *

"I feel like I've done nothing but cry over you today," she said. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," he replied with a smile. "It's normal after all you've been through." They were sat in a restaurant for dinner, the day having vanished around them. He poured some red wine for them both as she smiled at him.

"Why are you so kind to me?"

"Because the harsh spook façade is just that. It's a mask. You see the real me." He reached across the table and squeezed her hand, making her heart skip a beat. The waiter came to their table, breaking the moment asking were they ready to order.

"My treat," Harry said. She looked momentarily worried. "In cash," he added quietly, guessing correctly her worry. She didn't want to leave a paper trail, and he knew it.

"Thank you," she said with a smile before giving the waiter her order.

* * *

"Harry, that was a wonderful meal," she said sincerely. "Thank you."

"It's nice to share another dinner with you," he added, voice heavy with memory.

"It is," she said. "You know, I never… explained," she said. "About why I said no, to another date."

"Now's not really the time," he said, very aware of the fact that she was only in the country to say goodbye to her mother.

"No, I should have given you an explanation at the time," she said. "It was stupid. You said all those wonderful things. About us touring Europe together and… I was overwhelmed a little bit. And then I did a stupid thing. I thought about it too much and I panicked. I ran. It wouldn't have lasted. If I'd have stayed, I'd never have stuck to that decision, it was just a knee jerk reaction. To know that people were talking about us, it made me panic. And it was a childish decision. I see that now. I should never have tried to run from what I feel for you."

"That's good to hear," he said softly. "But I already knew it was something like that. After Cotterdam… well, you wouldn't have done that if… I was unimportant to you."

"You are important to me," she agreed quietly. She looked at him over the edge of her wine glass, considering. "Harry… do you want to come back to my B and B?" Her cheeks were flaming, but her blue eyes were sure and steady, looking directly at him. She knew what she wanted all right. He considered for a long moment, weighing up his options before finishing the wine.

"I will," he said, making her lips turn up in a smile. "But nothing is going to happen. Not when you're grieving." The smile faded from her face.

"I know what I want, Harry," she said quietly.

"I know," he said. "And I never thought that I'd ever be turning you down." That made her smile, eyes sparkling at him.

"So don't." Harry's eyes changed from soft and warm to smouldering in an instant that took her breath away. He said nothing, but reached for his wallet in his jacket pocket. She smiled as he put down more than enough money to cover the bill and then nodded at the door.

"Shall we?"

* * *

**More in the next couple of days. Unfortunately I'm working. Thanks for the reviews. :)**


	7. Chapter 7

Harry woke up feeling well rested for the first time in months. With his eyes still closed, he relived some of the more exquisite moments of the night before. Ruth's body arched under his as she cried out with pleasure. The taste of her nipples, the softness of her skin as he stroked her to completion, how beautiful she looked when she came.

He honestly hadn't intended for them to have sex, but she had smiled at him confidently, blue eyes sparkling with desire as she unbuttoned her blouse. By the time the garment hit the floor, his resolve was in tatters. And then she'd reached for the clasp of her bra…

He felt happy for the first time in… well, years if he were being honest with himself. He also ached, but in a much more pleasant way than he usually did when he woke up. He sighed happily and reached across the bed to pull Ruth towards him, but he found nothing. He opened his eyes and the room was completely empty except for him. Nothing but an empty bed and rumbled sheets. Touching them again he found them cold as well. No, she couldn't have just left in the middle of the night, leaving him to wake up alone. She wasn't that cruel. She couldn't be.

Heart racing he jumped out of bed, looking around the room for her. The shower wasn't running and there was no trace of her at all. That was when he saw it. A note propped up against the mirror, his name written in her familiar handwriting. How often had he seen his name written i her hand? Post it notes attached to forms. "Harry, sign please." Or "Harry, read over before I send it to the registry." The way she wrote his name would be seared on his brain until the day he died. Hand shaking slightly, he picked it up and unfolded the note.

_Harry,_  
_I didn't want to wake you as you looked so peaceful. I will be back in an hour or two, so don't panic. My passports are in my suitcase if you want to make sure. I want to say goodbye to my mother properly and alone. Hope you understand. R x_

He found himself breathing once more, and after a quick look, he found three passports in her case. He managed to slow his heart rate, now that he knew she hadn't just left and gone to the airport. He didn't blame her for wanting to visit her mother alone. Yesterday, with him turning up at the cemetery she hadn't said goodbye properly. Today she could, and it wasn't as if there were very many other times she'd get to visit her mothers grave after all. The thought of her imminent departure made him feel hollow. After today and she'd be gone. While looking for her passports, he'd found her boarding pass and her flight was at eight o'clock tonight.

He only had a few short hours with her, and suddenly his good mood that he'd woken up with had evaporated completely.

* * *

Ruth came back to her room, surprised to find Harry still in bed. She'd have guessed from all his early mornings on the grid that he wouldn't be the kind of man to have a lie in. His eyes popped open when she shut the door with a click and she knew he hadn't really been asleep. She took her shoes off and lay on the bed, leaning over him to kiss him hello. Breathing him in, she could smell soap on his skin, and his hair was slightly damp. He'd had a shower then.

"Morning," she said.

"I worried when I woke up and you weren't here," he said, unable to either lie, or hide it from her.

"I left a note," she said.

"I know," he said, smiling at her. "I just… worried." She kissed him gently and with love.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry." He squeezed her hand tightly. "I'm surprised to find you still in bed."

"I was thinking," he said, with the air of deep concentration. She smiled at him, at the same time noticing that his worry lines which had been smoothed away last night were back. She ran her fingertips over his forehead softly. "Stop worrying."

"You're leaving tonight," he said quietly. "Of course I'm worried."

"Mm," she agreed. "Probably about twenty four to thirty hours on a plane or in an airport.

"You could stay," he whispered

"No, I can't," she said firmly.

"You could," he reiterated. "I've been thinking about it and…"

"Let me stop you right there, Harry," she said. "You're thinking that you could hide me away in a cottage in the middle of nowhere, with you being my only visitor while Malcolm spends months on end trying to clear my name? That's not a solution I want."

"It would only be for a short while," he said, knowing he was close to begging, but past caring. "Maybe a few months while I work on the new Home Secretary. Towers likes me, he'll be amenable, I think."

"I can't do it Harry. I can't stay in the country just for you. To live my life in hiding, always worrying that I'm going to be caught and then thrown in prison. The fear will cripple me. That is not a life Harry, that's its own prison."

He sighed heavily, because he knew she was right. "Are you happy?" he asked softly "In Japan, with your new life?"

"Mostly," she said in a low whisper.

"Would you come back? If I can get your name cleared and your passport in your own name. Would you want to come back and live your life in Britain?"

She paused for a long time which had him panicking while she considered her answer. "I would," she said. "But not straight away. If I were free…" she paused on the word, as if considering the enormity of that small word which meant so much. "If I were free, I'd be able to stop running. And there'll be people I want to say goodbye to. I'll want to work out my notice at my job. I want to… just say goodbye. The goodbye's that…"

"You never had the chance to when you were running from London," he finished, understanding completely. "I am going to miss you." His voice wobbled a little and she felt a lump in her own throat. "So much."

"Don't," she whispered, pressing light kisses to his face and neck. "I've got a long plane journey to cry. I'm not going to cry now that I'm with you. Okay?" He nodded and turned towards her, wrapping her tightly in his embrace.

* * *

**More soon.**


	8. Chapter 8

The hours fell away from them, and they found themselves back at the B and B at the end of the day. Ruth had paid for an extra night, now she was glad that she had, so she could say her goodbye to Harry in private. Her case was packed and she was dreading this conversation. They'd decided that Harry was going to avoid the airport and CCTV camera's as he was meant to be in the middle east with Catherine. It could raise awkward questions which neither of them wanted. So they were both standing in her small room, wondering what to say. "I really… don't want to leave you," she said quietly. He kissed her gently, a hand around her waist as he was unwilling to let her go.

"I know," he said. "I don't either." He pressed a kiss to her cheek gently and then moved to take out something from his pocket. "This is for you. Open it on the plane."

"Well, thank you," she said, taking the small wrapped up box and putting it in her pocket. "Whatever it is. And when did you have time to get it?"

"This morning," he said, smiling. "When you were… at the cemetery. I am so sorry for your loss."

"I know," she said. "Kiss me." He did, passionately, his arms tight around her, pressing her body against his. She bit his lip delicately. "Kyoto," she whispered against his lips. "Flat 3, block 4, Miyagawa street. 605 0801. Write to me. Please Harry. I need some contact from you."

"Say it once more," he said, wanting to commit it to memory. She did, sucking on his earlobe gently, now knowing that he shivered when she did that. Seven years after she first met him, and she'd finally found his weak spot. She smiled at the thought.

"What?" he asked, seeing her smile unexpectedly at this sad occasion.

"I just like knowing your weak spots," she said, smiling even as her eyes filled shone with tears. She touched his earlobe gently once more.

"I know a few of yours too," he said. He reached for her ribcage, stroking gently. An unremarkable patch of skin except for the fact that last night when he'd stroked her there, she'd started to shake with delight. Sure enough, she closed her eyes and moaned under her breath. He chuckled at her reaction and kissed her briefly. "Take care of yourself."

"And don't get shot," she replied, voice soft with memory.

"Not until I see you again," he said firmly. "I promise."

"Not even then," she replied. "When I next see you, I want you in one piece."

"Sounds fair," he agreed.

She smiled, then looked at her watch. "I really have to go," she said. "I can't miss my flight."

"I know you can't," he said. He kissed her deeply, knowing it was going to be a long time before he saw her again. Soft lips caressed each other wonderfully, exquisitely.

"Ruth," he said breathlessly when they parted. She shook her head and covered his lips with her fingers gently.

"Don't say it," she said. "Not yet. Not now." He kissed her fingertips, then smiled at her.

"Go."

"Goodbye Harry," she said softly.

"Goodbye Ruth." He sealed the sentiment with a brief kiss, a peck more than anything else, then he let her go. She wheeled her suitcase out of the room without looking back. The door shut with a soft click and Harry moved to the window. He pulled apart the curtains slightly, watching the street below. Ruth had called a taxi which was waiting for her and the cabbie was leaning against the car, having a cigarette, which he quickly scuffed under his foot when Ruth came out of the building. The driver took her case and put it in the boot while Ruth hesitated. After a moments consideration, she looked up at the window. She smiled at him and he smiled back, even though she probably couldn't see him from his position inside. Then she got in the car and within moments was out of sight.

Harry breathed out in a heavy sigh and sat down on the bed. And then he sobbed.

* * *

Ruth had managed to hold herself together as she got to Exeter airport. She hadn't let herself think of Harry while she went through security, or while waiting for her plane. It was only once she'd taken her seat on the plane and was waiting for take off that she allowed her mind to turn to him. She tried hard not to cry in public, but she still ended up gasping for breath with tears falling down her face. She found it difficult to breathe and unfortunately someone sat down next to her and the woman was looking at her with concern. A pretty twenty something blonde. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'll be all right," she gasped, wiping her eyes and trying to stop.

"Nervous flyer?"

"No," Ruth said. "I…" she sighed heavily. "I'm leaving someone behind." Never would she normally be so honest to a stranger, but right now she was too emotional to care.

She managed to pull herself together by the time the plane took off. Once the seatbelt sign turned off, Ruth reached into her pocket and got the box Harry had given her. She unwrapped it and wasn't that surprised to find a jewellery box. After a moment of contemplation, she opened it. The first thing she saw was a folded note which she took gently, but didn't read. She wanted to gather herself first. Beneath the note there was a beautiful silver necklace, with what she hoped wasn't a real diamond, but it probably was.

"Oh, you stupid sentimental man," she said under her breath. It looked beautiful and far too expensive. She spent a long time looking at the diamond, her fingertip touching it delicately. It was stunning.

"Do you want a hand with the clasp?" Ruth turned to see the woman next to her nodding at the necklace.

"Oh. Yes please," she said, grateful for the help. She turned and after a moment or two, the necklace was in place. "Thank you."

"Your man has good taste," the blonde said. Ruth smiled, touching the necklace gently. He did have good taste in jewellery indeed. She felt a wave of grief and longing rush over her and she fought it aside to read the note.

_R_

_I wanted to give you something to remind you of me, whatever happens and wherever you end up. The gift is beautiful so it should suit you perfectly. I know you have to leave, but that doesn't change how much I will miss you and long for you. I will see you again one day, I promise. I can't accept any other outcome. But the memory of your face last night will make the separation between us a fraction easier to bear. You will always be in my thoughts throughout my long and heavy work days and my lonely nights. Have a safe flight. _

_Yours, H x._


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry for the delay. I was working so had little time to write. Here's a small in between ish chapter.**

* * *

_**Three weeks later.**_

Ruth found herself dozing, somewhere between waking and sleeping, writhing in the bed sheets. Her mind was filled with Harry, and memories that she'd thought over a hundred times since leaving him. His lips on her skin. The passion and desire in his hazel eyes as he thrust inside her. How wonderful it had felt after so much time spent longing and wanting him.

She realised as she came fully awake that the longing and wanting hadn't ended. It was still going on. Maybe even a little bit worse, as she'd now had a very small taste of what life with Harry could be like. She touched her necklace gently, wondering if her were thinking of her right now.

Then everything happened at once. There was a knock on her door at the same time as her alarm clock went off. Groaning, she got out of bed quickly, switched her alarm off and then covered up so she could answer the door. A delivery man was there with a large box. After debating for a moment whether she should accept delivery, she saw a name on the box. John Standing. A legend she suspected was being used by Harry. After that, she was eager to open it, so she signed with no hesitation.

Once alone, and with the lock on the door, she opened the rather heavy box. After unwrapping it, she found a heavy glass vase with red and white roses, interspersed with cherry blossoms. It looked unusual, but she knew exactly why he'd chosen it. She touched the petals of the rose gently, feeling its delicate softness under her fingertips before opening the card.

_Happy Birthday. Thinking of you always, John._

She'd almost forgotten it was her birthday, and now she was distracted by Harry's handwriting. He'd touched this. How he'd manage to send it to her untraced she had no idea, but that wasn't the point. He'd touched this and that meant a great deal to her.

* * *

Harry unlocked his front door, disabled the alarm and headed straight to the whisky bottle in his kitchen.

"You have to stop." He turned around in shocked alarm, relaxing slightly when he recognised Malcolm.

"How did you get in?" Harry asked.

"I set your security system," he said simply.

"I change the code every month or so… forget it," Harry said, deciding it didn't matter. "Want a whisky?"

"You need to stop drinking Harry," Malcolm said seriously. "I'm… getting a little concerned. Ever since you came back from seeing Ruth, you're drinking a lot."

"It's not a lot," Harry said, defensively.

"You pour one before midday now," Malcolm said. "In the middle of the work day, and I... I'm worried."

"I didn't know my staff paid attention to what I do in my office."

"Don't do that," Malcolm said, not taking any excuse from him. "I'm not your employee Harry. I'm your friend. And you're diving down a black hole. You're beginning to rely on whisky to get through the day." Harry sighed heavily and closed his eyes briefly. "I would never have told you she was here if I'd have known how you'd have reacted once she'd left."

"No, I needed to know," Harry said quietly. "I needed to see her."

"What would she say if she could see how much you were drinking?"

Harry paused, considering for a moment. Then he realised that she wouldn't say anything at all, because if Ruth were here with him, he wouldn't be relying on the whisky to make it through the day. For the first time he realised how much he was drinking throughout the working day, and how much he was wallowing in his misery. He sighed, feeling all of the fight go out of him and he collapsed onto a chair. "I miss her," Harry said. "I miss her so much. I just… I need to see her."

"I am doing my best," he said. "To clear her. You need to speak to Towers. He'll be able to "fix" it quicker than I can."

"I know," Harry said. He hadn't yet talked to the Home Secretary because he needed to organise his thoughts, what to say and what to hold back. He wasn't going to talk to Towers unprepared on something as important as this. "I will, on Monday. When I've had time to… organise my mind."

"And ease off of the whisky," Malcolm said quietly. "For her, if no one else."

"Okay," Harry said, agreeing reluctantly. He enjoyed the drink and it seemed as if it was his only comfort these days. His friend nodded, then left the house and Harry sighed. He poured himself a whisky, but only enough to cover the bottom of the glass. Because Malcolm was right. He was drowning his sorrows in drink. "God, I miss you," he murmured to the darkness of the night.

* * *

**More soon, and thanks for the reviews so far.**


	10. Chapter 10

On Monday morning, Harry arranged a meeting with Towers and he was still a little unsure about what he was going to say. "So, it can't be a disaster," Towers said, sitting down behind his desk heavily. It looked like it'd been a long weekend for him, which probably wasn't to Harry's advantage.

"No, not an imminent disaster," Harry said, forcing a smile. "But I still need to speak to you."

"About what?"

"Before you came into office, there was an incident. Cotterdam fire?"

"Oh, I remember that," Towers said. "The torture scandal. Involving members of the JIC, 5, 6 and the cabinet. Got a lot of press when it went to trial."

"Yes," Harry said, treading carefully. "Well, one of my officers was falsely accused of being involved."

"Ruth Evershed," Towers said. Harry raised his eyebrow in question. "I have my intelligence sources too, Harry."

"Well, she was falsely accused and there was a hunt going on for her," Harry said. "And…"

"Mm," Towers said. "Her body being dragged from the Thames was a little too convenient at the time. But no one wanted to investigate further, what with the mess the security services were in at the time. Where is she?"

"I can't tell you that." Harry spoke firmly

"What do you want from me?"

"Honestly, I'd like her name cleared, her passport and British citizenship restored and her to be free to come back to the UK if she wishes to."

"You don't want much do you?" Towers said sarcastically. "How do you know she's innocent?"

"Ruth is one of the most trustworthy and honest people I've ever met. She has more integrity than anyone I know, and she would not condone torture, even passively."

"You have no proof she's innocent," Towers guessed.

"I don't need proof, Home Secretary." Towers watched him for a moment critically.

"You're in love with her." Harry wasn't expecting Towers to be that astute, and if he had worked it out, Harry certainly wasn't expecting the Home Secretary to say it out right. To be so blunt surprised Harry. He raised his eyebrows, wondering what to say. Unfortunately, Towers broke the silence first. "You make more sense to me now Harry. Most of us are on our second or third wife by now. In this business… you know how it is. But I've never heard of you being involved with a woman. Not in years. You make more sense to me now."

"My feelings towards Ruth are not relevant."

"Of course it's relevant," Towers said. "You're not asking me to revive other agents from the presumed dead. And I know there'll be more scattered around."

Harry shrugged slightly, not knowing what to say. "Look Harry, you're a friend. And I know of Miss Evershed by reputation if nothing else. I can't do it though."

"Can't do what?"

"I have some power," Towers continued. "I can reinstate her citizenship, make her death certificate vanish and reissue her passport so she can return to the world of the living. But I can't remove the stigma of her crime. I can't tamper with the evidence, falsified though it seems to be."

"Home Secretary…"

"Listen," Towers interrupted. "_I_ can't tamper with it. I can't intervene in a criminal case with no evidence to back me up. But I can turn a blind eye if others want to look into it. And uncover the truth."

Harry nodded in understanding. "Thank you Home Secretary."

"The less I know, the better," he said. "And I'll have her passport with you by the end of the week." Harry smiled, grateful to a politician for the first time in years.

* * *

**6 months later.**

Harry made sure the door was locked and went into the kitchen, file clutched in his hands. He'd made sure there were several copies before leaving the grid, as he couldn't bear it were any of the information to get lost. Not after all of the hard work both he and Malcolm had put in.

He spread the papers on the kitchen table and systematically read through them all, checking for loopholes, and double checking Malcolm's work. After two hours he sighed, pleased but exhausted. He made himself a mug of tea and put the file back together in order. The evidence against her had vanished and the original transcripts from that bloody meeting had been found. The unedited ones, with Mace's incriminating words. Even just written on the transcripts, Harry could hear Oliver's disdainful tone.

_"What about section D?"_

_"No. Harry Pearce considers himself above such distasteful activities. If he knew, he would most certainly try to stop us."_

_"How do we contain him then? His team are good, they will find out if we proceed."_

_"Add an insurance policy. Make it look like one of them will be at the meeting, even though they aren't. Harry Pearce is a loyal idiot. He won't sacrifice one of his team, and we can keep going uninterrupted for a little longer."_

Harry shrugged slightly, trying to shake the uncomfortable feeling that Mace always gave him. He looked at the wall to distract him, admiring a painting Ruth had sent him. It was a beautiful painting of the spring cherry blossoms over the river, and he loved it. It reminded him that while Ruth wasn't here in London with him, she was safe and in some place beautiful. He smiled at the painting and then picked up the phone to make a very important call.

"Yes, I need to book a plane ticket to Osaka please."

* * *

**Thank you for the reviews so far. They make this so enjoyable to write. And yes, a reunion is coming up soon...**


	11. Chapter 11

**This chapter is heading towards an M rating.**

* * *

It was Saturday morning and the day dawned clear, cold and fresh. Ruth looked out of her window, admiring the city. It wasn't raining today, so that was good and she liked to watch Kyoto come to life. She lived near the top of the building, so she could see far and wide, and at the moment the trees were a mix of beautiful red, vivid oranges and stunning golds as the leaves turned. She would rather be in London, but as she wasn't, this wasn't a half bad place to spend her time. In fact it was a beautiful country to live in. The bells tolled lowly at a temple to her right and she smiled. The world was waking up.

Ruth got up and made herself some (hard to get hold of) English breakfast tea. It was so hard to find tea that wasn't green in Japan. Not that she disliked green tea, but it got repetitive after a while. She had just sat down on the window seat when there was a knock on her door. Ruth froze. The only person she ever had visiting her was Alex, but she was in Florida right now.

She got up warily, and opened the door a crack, still with the chain on. She gasped and fumbled at the chain, trying to remove it as quickly as she could. Then she opened the door to see Harry standing there, a suitcase by his feet. She ran her eyes over his face, now shockingly real and for almost a full minute she didn't move, drinking him in.

"You're here?" she whispered.

"I'm here." She smiled slightly at him. "You changed your hair back," he said softly. He reached out and stroked her short dark hair, now growing back a little.

"Well, after I last saw you, it felt right," she said. "Oh God, you're here." She leaned forward, against him and he wrapped his arms around her tightly, stroking her back, revelling in being able to touch her. She reached for him, unbuttoning his shirt so she could kiss his throat gently. He gasped at the caress of her lips and stroked her hair gently.

"Maybe not on your doorstep," he murmured.

"Maybe not," she agreed. Moving aside so he could come in, he closed the door behind him, and put the chain on. Almost before he could turn to face her, she was kissing him, her lips insistent against his. It only took a second of two for him to react, by which time she was pushing her body against his, pushing him into the door.

He moaned into her mouth as he wrapped his arms tight around her. He pushed her blouse up, his hands following the curve of her spine higher. Ruth smiled at him as she unbuttoned his shirt, her palm stroking him sensually. He just stood there as she stroked him and then started kissing his chest, open mouthed, tongue flicking against him. He tangled his fingers in her hair as she kept kissing him delightfully. She sucked his nipple and he moaned, feeling a jolt of desire run straight to his groin.

"In case it comes up later, I didn't come here for sex."

"Fine," she agreed breathlessly, pulling his jacket and shirt from his body simultaneously. She needed him, badly, and it felt like years since she'd seen him, not months. He reached for her, his hands on her bum, squeezing and pulling her tight against his pelvis. She could feel his erection through the clothes between them. God, he felt good.

"Bedroom?" he asked breathlessly. She smiled happily, and her eyes darted to the left in indication. He grinned and kissed her deeply, pushing her towards the bedroom. There'd be time to talk later.

* * *

Ruth groaned as she opened her eyes, feeling sore all over. It felt as if the imprint of Harry's touch and mouth was still all over her skin, every inch of her body. Her legs were hanging off the low Japanese style mattress, her feet skimming the floor. She found her head resting on Harry's hip, presenting her with a delightful view of Harry's genitals, now soft. She sighed and reached for him, cupping him gently.

"Oh. Mm…"

"You're awake then," she murmured.

"If I wasn't before, I am now," he said lazily. She squeezed a little. "Ooh…" She laughed and let go as his hand drifted down to stroke her hair. He kept going and she found it very relaxing.

"I think you have a fetish with my hair."

"No," he said, stroking lightly. "It's just… you've always got dark hair in my fantasies and dreams."

"You have fantasies about me?" she asked quietly.

"Most nights," he admitted. "When I'm sleepless and wanting you."

"I'm flattered," she said with a wide smile.

"Do you ever dream of me?"

"No," she said. "I don't remember my dreams, or very rarely. But do I fantasise about you? Absolutely." She stroked his stomach gently. "Of course I do Harry. After all, we had such a brief time together, there was plenty of room for me to imagine."

"Oh really? What kind of things do you want to do to me then?"

"Next time you're hard, I'll show you," she said, teasing lightly. She sighed and shuffled up the bed so she could face him.

"Tell me one of your fantasies," he wheedled, stroking her hair away from her face. "Go on."

"Mm, lets see…" she ran her fingers over his face, very softly, her lips twitching as she thought of something. "I guess… one of my fantasies is to wake you up with my mouth around your cock. I haven't tasted you yet."

Harry groaned loudly at the erotic image those words produced and she laughed happily. "Oh, you can wake me up like that any time you want to."

"Oh you'd like that, would you?"

"I might just lose my mind," he said. The light teasing faded in the quiet, and he wrapped an arm around her, bringing her in for a gentle kiss.

"It's so good to see you, Ruth."

"Mm," she replied. "Otherwise that enthusiastic greeting was out of place." He chuckled in her ear gently. "So why are you here?"

"Well, I have news," he said, stroking her softly and looking into her blue eyes. "I have your British passport and your freedom."

"Don't wind me up Harry," she said quietly.

"I'm not," he said. "You're free. It's…" He couldn't finish his sentence because she kissed him, deeply, then promptly burst into tears. He held her while she cried, and he knew it was simply relief. He stroked her and kissed her hair gently while she cried out her emotions.

"I'm free?"

"Yes," he said, smiling at her and gently wiping the tears from her face. "The passport was easy to arrange actually, it was avoiding the crime which was difficult. You need to thank Malcolm for that."

"I will when I see him," she said. "And I'll see him soon."

"You're coming back to London then?"

"Mm," she said with a smile. "When are you flying back?"

"Er… in five days," he said. "I'm not expecting you to come with me."

"Good," she said. "I can't tie things off that quickly."

"I wasn't expecting you to," he said. Then he spoke again, before she could stop him. "I love you."

She smiled at him, and leaned forward. She sucked his bottom lip delicately before replying. "I love you too."

* * *

**More soon. Thank you so much for the reviews so far.**


	12. Chapter 12

Harry was sleeping quite heavily when Ruth decided to get up. She wasn't surprised though, she knew it was a long flight from London, and he wouldn't have slept in a while. When she got up, she stroked his hair gently and then took a quick shower. She didn't want to wash Harry's touch away, but unless she was staying in bed all day, she didn't have much choice.

Once she was dressed, she saw Harry's suitcase standing in her lounge. Without thinking about it too much, she made a snap decision. She unzipped the case, looking for her passport. She found it, in a back pocket and opened it. She started shaking as she looked at her own British passport. **_Freedom_**. God, she was actually free. After nearly four years living in exile, she could go home. She cried, unable to help it, clutching her passport like it was a prized diamond.

After countless minutes, her tears dried up and she smiled at her passport. Home, London, Britain and Harry were awaiting her with that passport. And her tears had completely changed to a happy smile.

* * *

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see," Ruth said, smiling. She turned the corner and Harry blinked. Appearing as if from nowhere were orange gates lining a pathway, heading on a gentle slope upwards. "Fushimi Inari," she said. "The sunset from the top is beautiful."

"How long a walk is it?"

"About an hour," she said. "It's peaceful." He moved to hold her hand lightly as they walked through the hundreds of orange gates. She'd been right, it was peaceful. They passed a few Japanese couples going back down the slope, and a few western tourists too, who were obvious by the large cameras around their necks. But himself and Ruth were both quiet. Just enjoying each others presence and it was soothing to him. After so long without her, the joy of holding her hand couldn't be underestimated.

At one point, he turned to her in silence and kissed her deeply, holding her against him, just for the pleasure of it. She smiled against him. "I've missed you," he breathed when they parted.

"So have I," she said. "Come on, we're nearly there." He followed her and within five minutes they emerged from the numerous orange gates, to see the city below them like a painting.

"Wow," Harry said. "That's beautiful."

"It is," she said, sitting down on a bench. "I like to come here when I have some time and it's not raining."

"Worse rain than London?" he asked, sitting next to her.

"No," she said. "Just a different time of year. July and August are the wettest months. Took a while to get used to it."

"Sound like Britain," he grumbled.

She laughed. "You love everything about Britain, including the weather. I know you do."

"Yes," he agreed. "I suppose I do." Ruth reached for her bag which she'd brought up with them. Inside, there was a bottle of sake and two glasses. Harry took the bottle, looking at the Japanese characters before handing it back.

"It's rather strong," she said, pouring them each shot. Harry took a sip and his eyebrows shot up.

"Wow, you weren't wrong," he said. "It is strong."

"An acquired taste," she said, sipping her rice wine. "I like it."

She sighed happily and leant against his chest. "I've been thinking, Harry," she said quietly.  
He felt his insides freeze, as that small sentence didn't bode well for him. What on earth could she have been thinking about which would have the need to be announced like that? "Oh?" he asked carefully and (he hoped) neutrally.

"It's not bad," she said, turning to face him. "Or, I don't think it's bad."

"Just tell me," he said softly. "Do you want to stay here?"

"No," she said, gripping his arm tightly in reassurance. "No, I'm coming back to the UK. It's just… when I get there, I don't want to return to Thames House. I think… I think I'm done Harry."

"Oh," he said, in a much different tone. Relief that it wasn't something more serious, and she relaxed slightly.

"You don't mind?"

"It's your choice," he said. "And of course I don't mind. I've imagined us working together again, but my imagination isn't as important as you being happy."

"I just feel… apart from anything else, I feel that if we spent all of our working lives and our personal lives together as well, it might get a little… repetitive. We might get a little bored of each other. I want us to last, Harry."

He stroked her hair lightly. He couldn't see that he would ever get bored of Ruth, but he also knew she had a point. At the end of the day, they would be able to talk to each other, without already knowing that the other person knew every little detail about it. "So you see us as… long term?"

"I didn't throw my freedom away for just anyone." He smiled at her and kissed her softly.

"No you didn't," he agreed. "You should never have had to do that for me."

"It's gone," she said quietly. "I don't want to focus on the wasted time now. Not when I'm coming home."

"Fair enough," he said. He kissed her deeply, and it was a long time before they came up for air.

* * *

**More soon. Thanks for reading.**


	13. Chapter 13

**So, this is the final chapter. I don't want to go too far, and I think the ending is on a happy positive note. Enjoy, and thank you.**

* * *

Harry had a fair amount of time to explore Kyoto on his own. When Monday morning came, Ruth was back at work (after having handed in her notice), so Harry was alone for a large proportion of time. After wandering around the city and visiting some of the beautiful temples, he had to admit that Ruth could have ended up in much worse places than this. Three years might be a long time, but she hadn't wasted those many months, which was good to know. Even though he would have preferred it were Ruth with him for that time.

Harry set the alarm for early on Thursday morning, so he wouldn't miss his flight. It had been good to get away from the grid, and the peace of not being on call, but he had to go back. He couldn't be away for too long.

"I booked a flight," she said quietly, when they were in bed the night before he was due to leave. "To come home."

"When?" he asked, stroking her back gently.

"Three weeks or so," she said. "I know it's a while, but I want to… finish here properly. And pack the things I want to take home with me."

"Three weeks is nothing," he said. "Considering."

"Why are we always saying goodbye?" she said sadly.

"This isn't goodbye," he reassured her. "Just a brief pause." She smiled and kissed him softly.

"Roll over," he said lowly, hand drifting between her thighs suggestively. She chuckled gently, then did what he asked, sighing in pleasure as he touched her.

* * *

Harry kissed her like his life depended on it. They were standing in the middle of Kasai airport, and he didn't care if everyone was watching. It was only going to be a few weeks separation, but he was going to miss her badly. "Call me when you land," she breathed in between kisses.

"It'll be late here," he murmured.

"I don't care," she said. "I need to know you're in London safely, and it would be an oddly wonderful experience to receive a phone call from you. Especially without it being work related."

"I'll call," he promised. "Come here." He caressed her lips incredibly gently and she felt her heart race.

"Thank Malcolm for me," she whispered in his ear, before licking him delicately. He shivered powerfully and sighed.

"You can't do that in public," he murmured. "It makes me want to pin you up against walls."

"I'll do it in private when we get to London, then," she said, eyes sparkling.

"Are you giving me a good image to hold onto on that long flight?"

"I might be," she said. The amusement faded and sadness set in.

"Look, there's a gift for you at your flat."

"If you've bought me more jewellery…"

"Just wear it when you see me again," he said. "Promise."

"Fine," she agreed. "I'll wear it."

"Good," he said.

"Don't buy me something every time we're parted," she said. "I don't need gifts. I need you."

"Hopefully we won't be parted very often when you come home."

"Mm," she said. "Go," she added, feeling him twist to look at his watch. "You can't miss your flight, I know you can't."

"I love you," he whispered.

"I know," she said. "And I love you. So much."

"Goodbye," he said, kissing her once more.

"Bye Harry." She watched as he left and she sighed once he'd been swallowed up by the bustle of the airport. He'd gone again. But this time, it was only temporary. She'd see him in a few weeks time. She refused to allow herself to cry, and found herself sniffing. There was no point waiting any longer, Harry wasn't coming back, but she still found it hard to leave. After countless minutes she turned, and left the airport, heart beating fast.

* * *

Ruth unlocked her front door and looked around the flat she'd soon have to say goodbye to. It had been a rabbit hole to hide away from the world, but she had had some good times here. Her and Alex drinking a merlot while they put the world to rights at her kitchen table. Talking about London and New York. She had to say goodbye to her friend too. Alex flew home tomorrow, so she could say her goodbyes then. She wasnt sorry to go back to the UK, but she did have a tinge of regret for the life she was leaving.

She moved through into the bedroom and found a gift box on her bed. The same size as a shoe box, but slightly flatter. She opened it, relieved it wasn't jewellery, as she didn't want Harry to spend that kind of money on her. She gasped as she took out the black flimsy silk and lace lingerie. It was very revealing and she was very aware of the fact she'd already promised to wear it when she returned to London. She held up the bra to her chest, and she saw how little fabric there was. It would barely even covered her breasts. She felt the fabric between her fingertips and knew it was good quality. The silk slipped delightfully between her touch and she knew she'd have to try it on.

She did, quickly, and looked at herself in the mirror. It was revealing, but she knew Harry had seen every part of her, and tasted nearly as much. And she had to admit, it did look good on her. Harry clearly had a good eye for women's underwear, and he'd got her bra size perfectly. Clearly he'd been paying a lot of attention to her body. She smiled at the thought of Harry. Three weeks would pass soon enough.

* * *

**3 weeks later**

Ruth looked out of the window of the plane, feeling warmth fill her. London. Home. The flight was about ten minutes away from landing and she couldn't wait. The desire to see Harry was there, but much more powerful was the feeling of coming back to the UK as a free woman. The elation of being back in London where she never thought she'd ever manage to be again.

When the plane touched down she felt an echo of fear, the last time she'd landed in the UK she was a fugitive, and that mindset was hard to let go of. But the echo was much less than the terror when she'd landed in Exeter seven months before.

She looked at the mass of the buildings of the airport, and knew Harry would be in there somewhere. It was a comforting and reassuring thought.

* * *

"Welcome home." She hugged him tightly, breathing in the scent of him. He smelt of London and Harry. Two indescribable but perfect scents, at least to her. He held her face softly as he kissed her, the brush of his leather gloves on her skin making her shiver with delight. "Are you here to stay?"

"Yes," she said, reassuring him. "I am."

"Good." He kissed her again, a hand on the small of her back, pulling her close. "You look beautiful, especially after fourteen hours on a plane."

"I feel exhausted," she said. "All I want to do is lie down in bed." He raised his eyebrows suggestively and she laughed. "I meant to sleep," she said. "Not that I'd object to the other, though." His hand twitched on her back, wanting to go lower, almost in question. She saw it on his face, and she leaned close. "I am wearing it, Harry," she murmured.

He groaned and she laughed before he kissed her again, deeply.

"Let me take you home."

* * *

**The End.**

**Thank you for all the encouragement and reviews on this fic. **


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